oxygen's overrated.

“well, i’d feel a little bad living off your parents. i gotta find a fucking job soon.” mitch grumbled in remembrance of his bold choice to leave his father’s place, a look of regret draping over his previous blissful one. he picks up the dropped topic once more. “you really want me to move in?”

when mitch felt rhys working at his neck, he very nearly melted into the mattress. the fact that rhys was earning these little moans from mitch so early, and so quickly, had him heating up even more. his eyes were fluttered shut, and his head was tilting to the side a bit to allow the other more access to the skin on his neck. hands grabbing and caressing anywhere he could reach, rhys’ back and his shoulders. lingering anywhere softly. mitch lifted rhys’ face in a moment of initiative, smashing their lips back together in a swift movement, working his lips into rhys’ with a particular rhythm. it was deep and fast, mitch could hardly keep up with himself, let alone the boy above him. mitch pushes rhys off him and pins him to the bed on his back, straddling his hips. both arms beside the boy’s head, pressing into the pillows. he leans down closer, dangerously close. his tone is just above a whisper as he leans by rhys’ ear, placing a few kisses on the skin just below it before speaking. “no one’s ever made me feel like this. like how you make me feel.” it was almost a thank you, as his lips trailed down the boy’s neck and bit down softly. it was rare for mitch to be so.. dominant. he ignores that thought and just runs with how he was feeling in these moments with rhys. 

rhys nodded his head in agreement, reaching forward to rub a reassuring hand amongst his boyfriend’s bicep. “ you will find a new job quick. i’ll help ya look, yeah? don’t worry ‘bout it. my parents wouldn’t even realize. i mean, technically, it’s mine ‘cause they put it in my bank account, but you know.” the redhead released a short chuckle before licking nervously at his own lips. “yeah, i really want you to,” he paused. “don’t freak, okay? if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. just don’t leave me because of it.” he almost plead.

“uhhh,” had escaped his lips and was muffled by lips attacking his own. it was anything but innocent and rhys was reveling in it. he was left with a completely surprised gasp when his body was suddenly flipped and his back hit the mattress. pupils were sort of dilated, his ability to control himself becoming a difficult task. though, their bodies pressed together in nothing but boxer briefs and mitch’s boxers had little to hide. when the other spoke so lowly, the hairs at the back of his neck along with his arms had stood in attention, and he shivered evidently. this was a completely new side to mitch and rhys was enjoying it far too much. “yeah?” he inquired, a brow raising in intrigue.

mitch cocks a brow. this is home kind of makes his heart sink. “you serious?” it was a delicate topic for them. or at least it was for mitch. mitch felt they had never really gotten to a point where they were both on the same level. not enough to really consider moving in, anyway. they both know how the last time went, but it really felt different now. incredibly different. “don’t joke like that. ‘cuz i’ll pack my bags right now and be settled in by tonight. though– i wouldn’t be able to help much rent-wise.”

“did i? hm. sounds nothing like me.” mitch teases with a lazy grin, letting out a little gasp when the other’s body hovered over his own, feeling that very familiar heat return to his cheeks. mitch sank teeth into his bottom lip, gazing up at the other with stars in his eyes. the two were so close, yet that little bit of distance was killing him. mitch fell into this kiss easily, almost embarrassingly so. two hands found their way to rhys’ waist, slowly moving along skin to the sides of his chest. in the midst of passion and restless movements of his legs, mitch pulls away. “jesus. what’s got you so riled up this morning?” mitch puzzles, gaze flickering back and forth between both of the other’s eyes with a slight shake of his head. whatever the reason was, mitch was happy to give his boyfriend whatever he needed. in the morning or night or whenever. 

rhys fully understood the consequences of his suggestion, but he felt almost compelled to bring it up. it had been on the forefront of his mind for a while now, since the two of them had gotten back in a good spot, and if he had planned to spend the rest of their lives together, it needed to begin somewhere, right? his heart had been pounding loudly in his chest when the other responded, and he wasn’t quite sure that mitch was taking him seriously, so he instead chose to drop the subject - something he hadn’t been able to do in the past. “mmhm,” he mumbled. “like i’d ever ask you for money. you think i can afford a two story apartment in downtown on my salary alone? my parents pay for this place and you know it.”

slowly lowering his weight onto mitch’s chest, he tilted his head slightly as they kissed, tongue darting out to swipe across the male’s lower lip in an attempt at permission to enter. instead, he dared on and pushed through those soft, plump lips he had loved so much. when their kiss was broken, a sinister sort of smile appeared and he ignored his boyfriend’s question, dropping his head to begin attacking the side of the shorter male’s neck. lips, teeth, and tongue were being used to every extent and his closed eyes were filled with hunger nonetheless. “nothing’s gotten into me. just love you.” he finally responded.

“two streams too many.” mitch grumbles, head snuggling into rhys’ chest, just below his chin. he takes in his scent with a groggy inhale. an arm wraps around rhys in an attempt to bring him closer, but with his face already planted on his chest, that was a bit of a stretch. “you’re my hero.” he mumbles in a sleepy monotone against his chest, eyes closed and cheek mushed against skin just a bit. he listens quietly to rhys speaking, his morning voice nearly putting him back to sleep. he nods softly in approval of the other male’s proposal. “mmhm. i can always go home, though. if you need the day off to yourself.” he offers gently, patting the boy’s stomach. his head jolts up as rhys explains a drunken mitch, a hand coming up to rub his own eyes. “christ. i am absolutely a lightweight. a fuckin’ record.” he repeats in disbelief, shaking his head as it rested back on rhys’ chest blissfully. his eyes were open now, placing a hand on the other’s stomach. “who spray paints drunk? was i out of my mind? surprised i didn’t try to drink the stuff. or sniff it for a high.” he laughs pitifully with another soft shake of his head. “well, i’m glad the seattle police department knows where my heart is. and what’d i cry for?” mitch was a crier, and he’d admit it. his mom was the same way. 

“my head hurts so fucking bad. i’ve never had it this hard.” he groans, squinting his eyes in pain as if that would make the pressure surrounding his skull and behind his eyes any less intense. “and my feet hurt. did i run a marathon last night or what?” he pauses to take in a breath, letting it out lazily. “you’ve got a nice morning voice, by the way.”

at the feeling of hair tickling beneath his chin, a fond smile stretched over his features and he wrapped an arm protectively around his boyfriend as if to keep him from the rest of the world. there was nothing more he wanted than to have the two of them wrapped up in their own safe little bubble forever. his head tilted down, then, slowly inhaling the other’s scent while pressing a kiss to the top of his hair. “this is home, mitch. you’re home for me. you probably should just move in anyway.”

a laugh punched its’ way from deep in his throat, emerald gaze finding the other’s as they lifted their head. “hey, i don’t know what exactly you drank or did when i wasn’t there. you called me from jail and i took over from there. though... you did promise making out for the morning.” the redhead admitted, a sheepish grin appearing as he rearranged his body, pushing the shorter male down on their back and immediately hovering over - not quite allowing their bare chests to touch as he held his weight with an arm pressed to the mattress.

“c’mere’.” he mumbled, voice still sleepy and morning breath still on full display as he shamelessly parted his lips, pressing them rough and wet to his boyfriend’s.

mitch had started to wake up when he heard the other reach for their phone, but he opted to keep his eyes shut and his breathing steady when he felt the other’s presence closely behind him. feeling a breath on his neck made him shudder slightly, and now it was clear he was awake. sleepy, but awake. the shudder soon turned into a small stretch, and accompanying it was a soft groan. he opens his eyes slowly, turning over to be face to face, and body to body, with the one beside him who he loved so much. especially in the morning. “morning.” mitch mumbled with a raspy tone. once the sun hit his gaze, he winced at the brightness and oh yeah, that hangover he was so looking forward to. that was still a thing. “fuck..” he cusses softly, bringing a hang up to his eyes, and letting a hand blindly rest on rhys’ side. “can’t the sun fuck off for a day?” mitch runs his hand along his face in a rough rubbing motion, before resting it beside his head comfortably. his gaze attempts to meet rhys’ now, lifting the hand that was on his side to his cheek, beginning to make sweet little rubbing motions on the soft skin there. he thought about how funny it was that they both had freckles. hm.

“how’d you sleep?” he puzzles just above a whisper, pressing his lips together after doing so. he allows a comfortable silence to take place before he chooses to speak once more, hand moving to the beautiful boy’s neck, doing those same movements, but this time slower. “hope i uh, wasn’t too much of a hand full last night. i only remember vomiting and falling asleep next to you. two very great memories.” he presents a very soft chuckle after that. everything in the room felt warm. mitch’s cheeks, rhys’ skin, and the sun peeking through the blinds. he thinks he could stay here forever if time and the pace of the world allowed it. if only it wasn’t so fucking bright.

when mitch turned over on his back, rhys’ hands went to his own face in an attempt to rub the sleep out of his eyes. he smiled at their choice of curses first thing in the morning, looking over at his boyfriend who looked so innocent in that very moment. “it’s barely shining in here, mitch. like -- two streams. move your head to my chest.” he motioned toward his own chest, arms wrapping around the shorter male’s body to pull him closer. “it’ll block it right out, i promise.”

the redhead nodded toward him, a yawn ever so present in his mouth as he waited to answer his boyfriend’s question. “i slept pretty good. took the day off to take care of your hungover ass and possibly get a good four hour nap in. sound good with you?” he inquired, nervously awaiting the answer. “you were alright. i mean, you thought you got a fucking record for spray painting, announced to the entire police station how much you loved me, and then cried at home until you threw up. also -- you may have wanted to make out. we didn’t quite get there because, you know, previous answers.”

“sober part of me wants to say no, because going to work helps keep a routine. drunk part of me wants to say yes so you can spend the day helping me nurse my hangover. and letting me kiss you all over as a thank you when i’m not busy going to hell and back.” mitch very well purrs, snaking hands around rhys’ waist. he was very glad he didn’t end up sleeping alone on the couch tonight. he let out a hasty sort of breath when he felt himself being pressed against the mattress. when he felt the weight of rhys on top of him for a moment, a wicked yet lighthearted laugh of joy left him, leaving him a bit breathless. he placed a hand on his back loosely as the other kissed him, not really getting the exact chance to return any of the sweet little gestures. he sank in them anyways. mitch scooted to find a comfortable position, helping rhys pull up the covers, reaching to wrap an arm around rhys, rubbing his shoulder for a moment before resting his hand on the opposite pillow. “night. i hope neither of us snore.” he whispers, before reaching to shut off the light.

the first thing rhys realized when he woke up was that his room was still completely dark, but there was a sliver of light peaking through the corner of the shade covered window hitting him directly in the eye. it was later than he had realized and he huffed out a shaky breath as he turned to his back, reaching blindly for his phone and sending a quick text to his boss. the redhead brought a hand up, running it through his hair and pushing it out of his face while he wondered just how bad his bed hair was. he squinted, shifted and turned his body from his back to his side, pressing his front directly against his boyfriend’ backside. his hips jolted involuntarily at the contact, his eyes lulling shut once again as he shifted into a more comfortable position. “hmm.” he mumbled, breathing against the back of mitch’s neck. “good morning.” he whispered, lips lingering close to the skin but barely touching.

“This is very out of character of me,” Peter confessed as he leaned on Rhys’ shoulder. “To be quite honest, this city’s brought out a lot of me. I don’t remember the last time I went to a complete stranger’s house and just chilled, and then got dragged on a crazy adventure. But I’m really enjoying it. For years, I’ve just been working and I just need a break.”

“you got dragged? please, if anyone got dragged here, it was definitely me.” rhys shrugged the shoulder that his friend wasn’t leaning on, beer goggles on full alert as he stared out the window. “well i’m your guy if you’re looking for no work and all play.”

luca: so it sounded okay?

luca: yeah, of course. anything.

luca: what's up?

rhys: it sounded awesome

rhys: like i'll dl the fuck out of that shit

rhys: how do you go about asking someone to move in w u?

mitch exhaled gently through his nose as a soft smile blossomed, matching superbly with the sincere look coating his gaze. his chin dips down for a moment, watching their hands come together, then back up to look directly at the other. he absolutely could not say no to rhys right now, and he didn’t want to. not one bit. he might sleep on the roof if it meant rhys’ comfort was at its best. “.. was kinda hoping you’d tell me not to.” and that was all it took. he felt like he was dreaming in a wonderful way. “yes sir.” he breathes, shutting the door behind him quietly with his free hand before taking a few slow steps back to the bed, keeping one of rhys’ hands in his. mitch would be lying if he said he didn’t personally sense some nervous tension buzzing between the two of them, the drunken half of him decides to mention it. 

“hey, you alright?” he runs his thumb across the top of the other’s hand in a motion of comfort, that same smile sweetly sitting on his face like concrete. mitch was silently proud of himself for keeping his composure. mitch uses his other hand to flip over the top of the covers, preparing to slip inside when they both were ready to. he pauses for a moment, looking back at his shirt that had fallen to the floor once more. “i should, like, probably put that back on. it might be easier for you to sleep without my belly out.” he laughs softly at it, but his eyes looked a little sad. he guesses he can’t help that anymore.

as they walked back to his bed together, rhys nodded his head dumbly at the other’s question. he always took pride in himself for his poker face, but it seemed as if he was translucent to an even a half in the bag mitch. that made his nerves even worse. “m’fine. i’m just tired. think i should call out of work tomorrow? they’ll be fine without me. i mean -- it’s not like i really need the money anyway.” he mumbled, more so talking to himself while the other flipped the blankets down.

“no.” smirking, he brought his free hand up to mitch’s chest and placed his palm directly over the peck before gripping gently. “keep it off. wish more of it was off actually.” and rhys’ tongue had swiped across his bottom lip after he’d spoken, eyes darting down to where boxers had only covered the shorter male. he all but shoved his boyfriend on the bed on his back, immediately crawling over him and pressing kisses to every inch of his face that he could reach. rhys then slid off, laying beside him and turning to his side, legs intertwining with the other’s. “sleepy.” he mumbled, mouth buried into mitch’s shoulder. he took a moment to reach down and pull the white comforter up over the two of them before dropping his arm over mitch’s abdomen while his other was tucked between the two of their bodies.

mitch presses his hands against the sink and leans forward, adding the pressure of his body. “.. you’re not really supposed to brush right after vomiting. bad for your enamel.” he mumbles dismissively as if it mattered, wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead with one swift movement across the skin there. he does however, brush his tongue as well as he could without influencing another vomit-fest, and swish water around his mouth for a few minutes. he spits into the sink with a soft groan, grateful to rid some of the disgusting taste from his mouth. he was regaining soberness slowly but surely, although he could still feel that distinct and destructive drunk feeling. he had only been piss drunk one other time. with rhys, he thinks. although his head wasn’t very reliable right now. 

mitch was glowing with gratefulness for rhys, he was glad he could appreciate it now, at least a little bit. “you’re too good to me. now you gotta get wrecked so i can return the favor.” he knew that was probably a stupid thing to say right after he said it, so he turns away back to the sink, washing his hands and quickly drying them off. he takes one of the pills and throws it into his mouth, turning the faucet and collecting some water into his mouth, then swallowing roughly. he shuts off the sink and stumbles back to the bedroom, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and then falling back, legs still hanging off. he swallows heavily before speaking. “m’ gonna sleep on the couch so you can get like, a wink of sleep without me trying to fuck around.” he lugs himself up, grabbing his shirt from the floor and stomping towards the door frame. “i promise i wont vomit on your coffee table.” he was absolutely in no place to promise such a thing, but it made him laugh regardless. maybe if he said it aloud it’d be more viable. “sleep.”

“i’m sure you’ll have plenty of chances to do that during the rest of our life together.” rhys’ eye roll wasn’t exactly subtle, but he followed mitch back to the bed once again. he had begun feeling as if he were acting like a lost puppy ; trailing behind whoever had brought him home - even if this was his home. without mitch here, he felt lost. and while the other was extremely drunk and wandering, he felt possessive. he stood dumbfounded when the shorter male hopped up once again and headed for the door, but he felt almost speechless. if mitch had actually gone downstairs to sleep on the couch, rhys would either follow him down there and wrap around him until he fell asleep or he’d be restless all night in his bed by himself.

eagerly shaking his head, he stepped toward the male and offered him a grateful smile. “mitch, please don’t sleep downstairs. i won’t be able to sleep at all if you’re there. i’ll be, like, up here wondering if you’re okay all night. just come sleep with me.” he more-so demanded and begged in an extremely soft voice, hands reaching out to take ahold of his boyfriend’s hands as he stood near the door. “back to bed.” to say that rhys was nervous was an understatement. he felt bile rising into his throat as he waited for mitch’s answer. it also was an understatement to think that mitch didn’t have any hold on rhys -- the redhead would practically do anything for him. so if he had really wanted to sleep on the couch, rhys wouldn’t put up an argument. he would just wait patiently before heading down there as well.

mitch’s expression dissociates from the other’s words as they spoke. he attempted a short nod, but his face sort of twisted into something of sickness, like he was about to– oh no. “FUCK.” mitch curses, jolting up and jumping from his spot on the bed, nearly falling over, stumbling to the bathroom and huddling over the toilet, very literally vomiting. he guesses he really was a lightweight like his brothers. although he couldn’t go too deep into the newfound discovery whilst hovering over a toilet and blowing chunks. he lets out a few groans of agony and spits a bit into the toilet, flushing it before just throwing up again. a lot of the once blush-y colors had drained from his face by now, as he sits on his knees before the bowl and awaits for anything else to erupt from inside him.

“guess i can’t hold my fucking liquor.” he grumbles with a cough, attempting to clear his throat even though it was stinging. his head was pounding from the constant pressure in his stomach and chest, but he would admit he felt a little less uneasy than he had before. mitch wipes any tears that had pooled in his eyes during the process with his forearm and flushes the toilet once more before standing up. he lets out a few rather disgusting and worrying burps and looks at himself in the mirror. he just frowns. “well that was fucking gross.” he stares at himself like getting sick was a sin. his gaze trails slowly to the toilet and back to the mirror. “sorry.”

the redhead was broken from his reverie at the feeling of the bed dipping and the loss of contact beside him. he paused, inhaled, and exhaled deeply before also hopping up to his feet and following his boyfriend into the bathroom. god, he hoped he wasn’t this much of a lightweight always. though, he did find it kind of endearing. rhys was kind of happy he was able to care for the other male to the best of his ability.

as he stepped into his bathroom, he was welcomed in by the sound of dry heaving and flushing. instinctively, the redhead cautiously ran fingers gently through his boyfriend’s darker hair in a comforting way as the other emptied the contents of his stomach. his eyes were closed, however, as mitch continued before he was standing before him. “you’re alright. brush your teeth, though.” rhys laughed quietly as he turned away from his boyfriend to grab the empty glass beside the sink and filling it half way with water before handing it to mitch. “drink, brush your teeth. i’ll go get your pills - i left them downstairs.” he stated as he retreated back to the bedroom.

when he returned, he sought out his boyfriend and immediately brought his lips to the tip of the other’s nose, leaving a lingering kiss there before shoving the headache pills in his direction. it was becoming more and more obvious --- he wasn’t getting much sleep tonight.

“mm. all of the above.” he slurs and lets out an effortless and rather breathy laugh at shitty father. rhys would probably know the most of all people about that, since mitch rants about his father nonstop sometimes. he was pissed that the guy still had a strange impact on him, and he hopes rhys doesn’t mind it. mitch obliges, lifting the lower half of his body with a small grunt, helping rhys out by tugging off the pants with a few wiggling motions. he punches out a sigh once the damn things are off, pulling up his boxers a bit which had fallen down in the process. “mmm.. off. no– on. your shirt. NO, off. okay, off. “ he decides rapidly, settling on removing his shirt with a couple weak movements and tossing it onto the floor. mitch crawls up to the pillows and lies on his stomach, looking up at rhys the best he could.

“you comin’?” mitch bravely reaches down for his phone after he speaks, which had fell out of his pants during the duo effort to remove them, and took a good, squinted look at the time. rhys has work soon. “fuck.” he exclaims worriedly. “ohmygod. you got work soon– i’m so fucking sorry.” he whines, setting his phone down beside him on the bed and face planting into a pillow. “i guess making out is cancelled.” he mumbles with a soft laugh into said pillow before lifting his head to breathe properly. breathing is the key to, uh, not dying. mitch should keep that in mind. mitch turns onto his back again, resting his hands on his stomach, folded over each other. “m’what time do you leave?”

rhys adjusted the plain grey t-shirt that clung to his chest before slowly sliding into the bed beside his boyfriend whom had been lying on his face at this point. his eyes glanced from where the other’s shirt had been tossed to where mitch was shirtless. he enjoyed staring at the way their back contorted, how the muscles contracted and moved whenever he had readjusted himself in the bed. his breathing had slightly evened out and hand slowly found its way beneath the waistband of his own sweats, resting over his boxer briefs as he relaxed. 

“we can make out as much as you like tomorrow. i mean , as long as you’re not vomiting all day.” the redhead added, huffing out a short chuckle while his eyes lulled shut. “i’d probably still make out with you even with your puke breath.” shrugging slightly, his other arm moved behind his head as he lay on his back for support. “i leave around 7:30. have to be up at 6 to shower and stuff, though. you can stay. don’t worry ‘bout getting up when i do. i’ll write the alarm code down for you and leave it on the counter, okay?”

“wow. i can’t believe you have like, no faith in me. this relationship is over.” mitch teases, easing into the other’s touch for comfort and balance. he wraps an arm lazily around rhys’ waist, heavily stepping up those stairs he mentioned prior. his legs kinda felt like giant jugs of water, but he opted to ignore his struggle because he wanted to plop down on rhys’ bed so damn badly. i mean, he wanted a lot of things in that moment, but he felt better focusing on one goal at a time. “yeah, yeah.” and so they did. when they reached rhys’ bedroom, mitch pushed past the door with a hand and carefully lied himself on the edge of the bed. he let out a moan into the covers.

“i kinda juuust wanna know why i do these things to myself.” he huffs before turning over and attempting to unzip his pants to pull them off. he does so with his eyes closed and head against the bed, which isn’t much of a help, obviously. he eventually gives up on tugging off his pants, which are only down to his thighs now and barely past his behind, he brings a hand up to his eyes and rubs them for a moment. “baby,” something mitch never calls rhys, “could you help me with these– this? pants? i need help.” he begs, his hands making little grabby motions as if to convince rhys to come closer. “i hate jeans.”

“do what things to yourself?” the redhead asked, keeping an eye on his boyfriend as he removed his own sweatshirt and tossed it carelessly to the ground. his eyes squinted then as he glanced to the clock, noting that he had to be up in about three hours for work anyway. “quit your shitty job that is even shittier because of your shitty father?” inquiring, he raised a brow curiously before sliding his shoes off and pushing them aside with his sock clad foot. “or, doing all of that and then getting yourself too wasted?”

rhys found himself obeying his drunken boyfriend as he stepped closer to him and hunched over to grip the waistband of their jeans. “lift your hips.” he instructed in a hushed tone before pulling mitch’s jeans off the rest of the way and dropping it alongside his own sweatshirt on the ground. “you want your shirt off or keep it on -- or you want a clean one of mine?” as he spoke, rhys attempted to pull the blanket beneath mitch down, but when he failed, he made a move for the spare that had hung over a stool beside the bed. covering mitch with the soft blanket, rhys leaned over once again to press one chaste kiss to their forehead.

mitch observed the items now placed on the coffee table before him with squinted eyes. he was far too trashed to appreciate their importance, but he knew rhys put them there and that was enough for him to plant a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “you’re so nice.” his words were exaggerated and drawn out, but he meant them. he wasn’t sure when exactly, but there were tears coming out of his eyes. his face, however, was calm. he was fine but he was crying. alright. when he notices the wetness of his cheeks, he sports a playful pout and chuckles lazily. “i’m a fucking mess. t’morrow is gonna be horrible.” cue another soft laugh, his stomach jolts under rhys’ touch as he does so. rhys’ words were kind and reassuring, unfortunately mitch wasn’t in a great place to take them in properly. “be your little fuckin’ live-in maid?” mitch is clearly amused by the idea, offering them a chuckle. “call you master and have one of those little, uh– whatchamacallit’s. FEATHER DUSTERS?” he punches out in a moment of realization. after a moment, he calms down with a sigh. “.. if my dad knew what i looked like right now– gah. i’d be a dead man walking right now.” mitch really wishes he could control how slurred some of his words sounded.

he places a hand on rhys’ shoulder for balance as he removes his second shoe. thank god for this guy– he thinks. his face lights up at the other’s proposal. “oh! carry me. i mean– if you can with me bein’ five billion pounds.” he grumbles that last part, standing up and stepping directly in front of rhys. “or.. i can carry you.” he laughs as he tries to lift rhys by his arms, quickly giving up in another fit of loud laughter, without much effort given in the first place. “oh my god. you know what i–” burp. “uhm, just realized? you look like hercules. like, animated hercules. ‘cuz you’re so handsome. and.. redhead..some. and also my friggin’ hero.” he rambles, tugging at rhys to follow him to the bedroom some more. at least a drunk mitch was a persistent one?

rhys couldn’t help but wear the look of shock over his features slightly too prominently while tears flowed down the other’s cheek. he felt an immense amount of confusion bubbling up within his chest --- he wasn’t sure how to react. on one hand, he wanted to wrap himself up within the boy beside him and cuddle him until he died of suffocation, but on the other, he wanted to give him as much space as he seemed like he needed. so without doing either of those, rhys opted to bring his hand up and absentmindedly rub away a few of the free falling tears with his thumb. “yeah, you’re gonna feel like complete shit tomorrow.” he huffed out a breathless laugh while looking down at him, a look of complete adoration taking over his face.

“five billion? more like, just about one hundred. don’t think it’s possible you can carry me, though.” gazing as his boyfriend clumsily got to his feet, he shrugged his shoulders forward at his claims of rhys resembling hercules. the shorter male was far too intoxicated for him to argue that fact, so he instead allowed his arms to be pulled at before pulling back, eyes wandering over the state of mitch as he stood directly before him. rhys slowly stood up and wrapped himself around the shorter male, arms dangling over his shoulders as he pulled him in the direction of his own bedroom. “we’ve got steps coming up. think you can walk up them?” he asked, venturing up the steps with a boyfriend in hand until he had reached his room.

mitch lugged himself out of the passengers seat, grabbing onto rhys’s side for dear life. standing up keeps making him dizzy. “ohh. i don’t feel good.” he whines, grimace scrunching up his features. he lets out a whimper, stomping alongside rhys, concentrating on the ground below him and how his hands clenched the fabric of rhys’ hoodie. he nods. “uh-huh. i got it.” he grumbles, walking by himself for a moment, pausing to recollect his balance and carefully walking forward with hands up, preparing to grab onto something if he so needed. and he did. he let out a breath of relief as they entered the other’s home, falling face first into the couch and letting out another obnoxiously loud breath that turned into a grunt of frustration. with an arm and a leg dangling off his couch, he lies there for a couple seconds before lifting his head to find rhys’ gaze after hearing him speak. 

the word ‘work’ makes him pull a face of disgust right back into the cushion. “i don’t wanna move. come here.” he reaches out his hand lazily for rhys to grab, for some reason. another sigh leaves mitch’s mouth. “i quit my fuckin’ job. not that it matters, though. s’not like my bitchass dad payed me anythin’. you know what i got every week, rhys? SQUAT.” he turns over now, slowly but surely lying on his back with an arm dangled over the side of rhys’ couch, and the other pinching the bridge of his nose. “can you shove something in my butt or kick my ass before i start crying, please?” mitch whines with a glum look pulling his expression downward, sitting up with his hair simply a mess and eye bags evident. he looked like a picture perfect, drunk mess. he guesses he’s an emotional drunk, then. mitch attempts to bend over and pull off one of his shoes, which seemed like rocket science in the moment. his laces were tight and it made his skin boil. “fucking– why do i even wear shoes. i hate these things.” each of his movements were very sluggish and almost a bit dramatic. he manages to get one shoe off, but it flies from his grasp and shoots across the other’s living room. “sorry.” a lazy smile flashes quickly, then back to looking dazed he went.

“okay.” rhys agreed, holding his hands up in defeat when the other was convinced how they had a hold on it. while rhys was never one to excel in making others feel better or having any sort of compassion, he couldn’t help but stare in awe and wish he could steal the future hangover from his boyfriend so he wouldn’t have to deal with that in the morning. instead, he watched carefully as the male fell over onto his couch before he headed into the kitchen and removed the necessary items ; ibuprofen, a glass of water, and one of his frozen eye masks. what? they helped rid of the bags beneath his eyes. he did not refer to it as beauty sleep what so ever -- no, never.

the redhead set the items down at the coffee table when he felt hands grabbing at him in random places. his eyes had widened slightly at the other’s confession, but now everything made sense. mitch quit his job and was dealing with it by drinking himself to death tonight. he couldn’t say he was particularly angry about his beautiful boyfriend quitting that shitty job, though. rhys slowly scooted onto the couch, his backside barely touching mitch’s ribs as he lay on the couch. “hey, it’s alright,” he started, voice as soft as he could possibly manage as he brought a hand to gently rub against mitch’s stomach. “you can get another job mitch. your dad was taking advantage of you, you know? -- i could get you a job. or you can just move in here and wear a housemaid costume on the daily.” he offered, a smug grin taking over his previously concerned features. “no. not shoving anything up your ass tonight. maybe tomorrow.”

a boisterous laugh parted his lips at the sight of a shoe flying across his living room. amusement flashed across his face and he bent over to slowly remove the other’s shoe that remained on his foot. “you want me to get a blanket and we can sleep out here or should i attempt to carry you to bed?”